A Rose in Bloom
by AnnikaTwist
Summary: Just a little something about Hermione, she thinks life has lost it's magic touch, until she meets a certain someone...
1. Default Chapter

Hermione Granger was sick of life, and most of all she was sick of being 15. Sick of being too young to do anything, to apparate, to go out alone, to stay out late on weekends, to do advanced magic, the list went on. Anything remotely interesting, was forbidden because of her age. Even at Howarts everything seemed dull. There were days when the very thought of going to the library had thrilled her to near hysterics, and squealing with delight she'd prance of to the library, to sit idly for hours and hours, completely lost in some dusty volume. But now, she was sure she'd read every book in the library or even when she stumbled upon one that didn't seem familiar, she would find her thoughts wondering absently, and every book seemed just like the one before, dull and listless. And although everything at Hogwarts was seemingly perfect, to Hermione, it seemed to have lost its magic touch. Her life seemed to have an enormous gaping hole and she yearned to find something to fill it, but she just couldn't figure out what. She just couldn't understand what could be missing, she had wonderful friends who were delightfully fun and always there for her, perfect grades, and loving family, etc. etc. etc. And yet, she wasn't happy. Her mother insisted this restlessness was a direct result of Hermione's teen years, and life from here on out would be an emotional roller coaster. She was positive that Hermione would go from being ecstatically happy, to melodramatic, 'I wish my life was over.' But Hermione ignored these speculations and continued to wonder desperately what she needed to make her life what it had been in recent years, blissfully delightful and content. Hermione was wondering these exact things at dinner one night, gazing disinterestedly into her plate of mashed potatoes, only half listening to Harry and Ron's heated discussion about the newest kind of candy at Hogsmeade, 'Sickler's Skin Transformers.' They were said to turn your skin inside out for exactly 15 seconds, but it seemed all the kids were too wary to try them. "I just wonder how they do it, y'know?" Ron questioned Harry excitedly, "I mean, the pure science of it is mind boggling!" Harry screwed up his face, deep in thought, "Maybe, it's all an illusion. Like, you don't actually turn inside out, you just see yourself that way." Ron shook his head, " I dunno though, cause the people around you have to see it too, I think it's the real thing Harry, definitely for real. But how do they do it?" He began again. Harry could only shake his head in bewilderment, staring deeply into the candlelight. "I mean, if someone could just tell me how, I'd be satisfied!" At this point, Ron had been so upset and wrought up in the discussion that he'd flung his hands out sideways, knocking an entire goblet of pumpkin juice down Neville's front. Neville gave a small yelp and shot up from the table, knocking his chair over in the process. "Oops! Sorry Neville." Ron glanced sheepishly at the enormous orange stain blossoming on Neville's robes. "No problem." Neville smiled good-naturedly, dabbing gingerly at his robes with a napkin. "But, d'you know what I heard about the Sicklers?" Ron whirled immediately around to face Neville, attention completely focused, "What?" "Well," Neville piped up eagerly, evidently quite proud to be sharing such juicy information. "I have a cousin who lives in Derbernshire, and they released the Sicklers early there, over the summer, and there was a boy who wanted to be the first to try it, so he did, and it worked and"- "No joke then huh?" Ron breathed in fascination. Neville nodded fervently, "And he turned inside out and his eyeballs sucked inward and you could see his blood pumping and everything." Ron stared at him, unblinking, in awe. "Yeah, but the bad thing is, he got stuck." Ron blinked fiercely, snapping back to attention, "He what?" "He got stuck." Everything Neville said before had been very fast and breathless, but when he came to this bit, he dropped his voice dramatically, and paused. "What d'you mean, he got stuck?" Harry pressed. Neville went on in his stage like whisper, "He just did. The skin wouldn't go back and he froze up like that, eyeballs sucked inward and everything." This was enough to bring Hermione out of her mashed potatoes. "Neville," she began in her calmest voice, "How reliable is this cousin of yours?" Neville shook his head ardently, "No! He wasn't lying, it was in the papers and everything." "Did you see it in the papers?" Hermione went on in her sedate tone. Neville squirmed, and looked at the floor, "Well…Not really, but he would lie about something like that!" Hermione scoffed. "Oh, c'mon Hermione, this is serious stuff! I'm sure Neville's cousin wouldn't lie about something like that." Ron stared at her pointedly. Hermione rolled her eyes, "Ron, obviously if something like that happened, they would recall the product, and it would have been all over the news. Besides," She continued reasonably, "There would have been enormous lawsuits, and"- "I guess she's right," Neville said dejectedly, poking at his pumpkin pie, "Frances does make lot's of stuff up." Ron glared at Hermione fiercely, enormously agitated that she'd spoiled the dramatic mood. "Leave it up to Hermione to ruin a good story! If I"- But Harry interrupted him quickly, elbowing him in the ribs and pointing towards the teacher's table, Dumbledore was rising out of his seat. Hermione scowled, and crossed her arms across her chest. It was a stupid story anyway, who would believe something about a boy getting stuck inside out, absolutely ridiculous. As Dumbledore rose from his chair, the clamor of voices immediately died away. Every face turned expectantly, it was rare for him to make an announcement other than at the beginning and end of the term. He beamed at them jubilantly, his hands clasped behind his back. His crinkly eyes glimmered mischievously and he cleared his throat. "I'm afraid I have some bad news. You all know Professor Duzbyn, our defense against the dark arts teacher had been developing a rather nasty cough in the past few weeks. Unfortunately this nasty cough turned into a rather severe case of nephylephatitis." He paused staring around as if hoping for some sort of reaction. When he received none, he continued. "Although it is nothing too serious, he has been forced to take a leave of absence that will most likely extend far until next year." This time, there was a definite reaction. A babble of excited voices broke out. Nobody had been fond of Professor Duzbyn. He was said to be almost as old as Hogwarts itself, and it seemed to be a mystery why he was still around. In the past, he'd been rumored to suffer from numerous strange diseases, but after each disease, he remained, if slightly more wrinkled, very much alive. It seemed that with each new illness, people became more and more anxious to see him go. And so yet again, he was taken ill, and yet again, it was not a shock. But the announcement of his leave of absence was definitely something to be excited about. The meant yet another defense against the dark arts teacher would be filling in the tentative position. Everyone was eager to see Professor Duzbyn go. He was small and old and feeble. Too rickety to stand on his own, he scooted about on a sort of wizard wheelchair that hovered above the ground and was controlled by Professor Duzbyn's wheezing crackle of a voice. His skin sagged loosely and was covered with large brown spots. His eyes appeared to be lost in the folds of skin, but he still wore a pair of wire rimmed spectacles, that he squinted out of irritably. His head was covered with several delicate wisps as fine as spider's silk. Fred and George used to say if you sneezed too hard, they float right off. He'd often substituted for teacher's at Hogwarts and it was said he only had the job this year, because no one else would take it, and Dumbledore had run out of options. Dumbledore put up a hand for silence, and hall quieted, eager to discover who would fill Duzbyn's place. "As your substitute for the remainder of the term, will be an old friend of mine, who is taking a leave of absence from his job as an auror. Although he has not yet arrived, he will most certainly be here tomorrow, in time for you morning classes. Thank you, that is all." The babble of voices erupted once more as the students jostled their way over to the two enormous double doors. Ron was fuming, "That old fox! He won't even tell us the new guy's name, now we're all going to die with anticipation." Hermione sighed, "Oh Ron, it isn't so bad. We're going to find out tomorrow anyway. You're so impatient!" But as she called good night to her friends and made her way up the stairs to the girl's dormitory, she was aching to know who the new teacher would be too. Maybe, she thought brightly, This new teacher will be what I've been looking for, and fill my life with some excitement again. And as Hermione crawled under the covers and flicked out the light, she hardly knew how right she'd be. ~


	2. A Knight in Shining Armor

A Rose In Bloom 

A Rose In Bloom   
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me, I just mess around with them, they instead belong to the wonderfully talented J.K. Rowling. 

The next morning at breakfast, Hermione sat boredly shoveling scrambled eggs into her mouth, when she suddenly remembered with a start, the announcement of the previous night. Straining to see above the sea of pointed hats, she eagerly scanned the staff table for a new face. But upon seeing Proffessor Duzbyn's chair still empty, she scowled miserably and sunk deep into her chair. It looked like the day wouldn't get interesting until sometime late afternoon; defense against the dark arts was her last class of the day. "Why the long face?" Harry asked cheerfully as he and Ron came in and took their usual seats on either side of Hermione. "Nothing, just the new teacher has decided not to show himself, until we actually have class." "So what?" Ron asked, heaping enormous mounds of porridge onto his plate, and dousing it all with a generous sprinkling of cinnamon. "Why is everyone so worked up about this new professor anyway?" He demanded with his mouth full, spraying Hermione with toast crumbs. " I mean, it'll probably just be another dope, like Duzbyn. They are really running out of decent teahcers, y'know, and all the good ones never last." Hermione glared at him darkly, he was dashing her only hopes for excitement, and she wasn't going to have him ruin her day. Scooping up her books, she muttered something about research at the library, and she stormed off. But as she began walking up the grand staircase, her steps faltered. I don't want to go to the library, she thought dully. She glanced at her watch; she still had plenty of time to kill before her next class, sighing, she retreated up the stairs, deciding to wander aimlessly until her first class. Hermione was sauntering lazily down one of the corridors, staring disinterestedly at the avidly waving portraits, when who should come tearing around a corner, but Professor Snape. He was fuming, his eyes cast downward and knitted into a horrible scowl, greasy locks swaying irritabily as he sped along rapidly. Hermione glanced at him fearfully, she knew he was always in a foul mood, but this, this was something far beyond that, this looked deadly. In fact, she didn't think he even noticed she was there, and she had to dart hurriedly out of his way, for fear he might run her over. Unfortunately, she swerved just a second too late and her elbow smashed forcefully into his ribs. In three swift steps he was upon her, his face merely inches from hers, lips twisted in fury, eyes pulsating with anger, a vain throbbing in his neck. Hermione pressed herself as close as possible to the cold, stone wall; trying vainly to escape the icy glare. In a voice like a snake slithering through tall grass, he spoke, "What do you think you were doing?" Hermione couldn't help flinching with each syllable. "Next time, Miss Granger, I suggest you be more careful and watch where you're going!" "But I-" "DON'T INTERRUPT ME!" He snarled, eyes flashing dangerously. "Because of your...incolense, I will be forced to take twenty points from Gryffindor and award you with a detention." Hermione watched frightened, as his fingers curled into fists, twitching involintarily, as if they itched to smash something. "F-fine," she stammered, silently willing him to go away. Just leave, she thought desparately. "How dare you say 'fine' to me!? You miserable little-" He raised his arm into the air, ready to swing, Hermione shut her eyes quickly, paralyzed with fright. "Freeze. Right there, Severus. I suggest you back away from the student, this instant." Hermione started, but didn't open her eyes. Why did that voice sound so familiar? Hermione heard the distinct click of boots coming closer, "Severus, I'm warning you-" But Snape broke him off with a howl of fury. "You're warning me?!" He cried dubiously. "How dare you even speak to me that way you horrible, slimy, brown nosing," He broke off spluttering with anger, "you-you miserable excuse for a human being!" "Snape, don't take your anger for me, out on other-" Snape shrieked, advancing on him with raised fist, then paused, shaking it vehemently in the air. "You! It's all your fault! I was this close to getting that job, but then you had to come along ! He's only doing this because he feels sorry for you! Because you couldn't even handle a real job like being an auror. Ha!" He gave a forced laugh, "I knew you were too weak! Charity, that's all it is, a miserable charity service for people like you," he spoke the word with the deepest disgust, as if it soiled his tongue to speak it. " How can he possibly consider, I-" He broke off, strangled by his own anger. Then grinding his teeth like a madman, trembling with fury, he turned and stormed away. Hermione let out a shaky sigh, and slid weakly down the wall, eyes still shut tight. Someone walked towards her; a sigh. "It's all right, he's gone now. I'm so sorry." That voice...low and soft, why was it so familiar? It sounded just like-like, Hermione's eyes snapped open. "Professor Lupin!" she breathed. And there he was, just as she remebered him, but no-no this was not as she remembered him at all. He still had the same tarnished, brown hair tumbling into those warm, dark eyes. But yet, he was very different. Although he smiled genuinely, his eyes gave him away, dark and troubled, and he was very thin; too thin, Hermione noted anxiously. "In the flesh," he extended an arm, and she gripped it thankfully, pulling herself to her feet. "You know, I'd like to apologize for that. I'm not sure what he said, but I'm sure it wasn't you fault. He's just a little," he smiled sardonically, "Upset, that I've returned. Are you all right?" He looked at her, concerned. Hermione nodded ferverently, unable to take her eyes off her old professor. "How did you know my name, by the way?" Hermione gaped at him. "Professor Lupin! It's me!" He shook his head, "I'm sorry. I'm not very good with...people. I'm just...." he bit his lip and stared at her, puzzled. "Just give me a hint." "Professor! It's me! Hermione Granger!" He had been slowly shaking his head, his brow rumpled in concentration, then his whole face lit up. "Hermione!" He smacked himself on the forehead. "Oh good lord, I- Hermione!" He smiled brightly, and seizing her arm, he began to pump it enthusiastically. "How are you? I'm so sorry. How could I have forgotten? You just look, different I guess. Your hair, it must be your hair, it looks," he shook his head, smiling more brightly, "wonderful." Hermione fingered it nervously, "Thank you." She had been so tired of all the fluff, and one day she just hadn't brushed it out when it was still wet, and it had curled into hundreds of little ringlets. Not quite as curly as some, but it was an enormous improvement. "You've grown up so much. What year are you in now?" "Sixth." "Sixth year? Really?" He looked at her incredously. "So how have you been?" But Hermione hadn't heard him, she was too busy staring at him. She was still marveling at how different, he looked. It wasn't just that he was thin; his cheeks more hollowed, his eyes more troubled. He had a long scar, running down his cheek, and his nose, that was it. His nose was crooked now, as if it had been broken, and never properly healed. He looked quite good really, for being so thin. Even though his hair was a bit too long, dangling messily into his eyes, she liked it. And his skin looked very dark, and his hair more golden. Or was it just the light? They were standing by a window afterall. But his eyes, those really entranced her. Rich, and dark, and smooth. Like dark chocolate Hermione mused. "Hermione?" Hermione snapped to attention, "What? Sorry?" He smiled warmly, "I said, how've you been?" "Oh fine." Those eyes, those lovely, dark eyes... "Hermione?" "Sorry!" She forced her gaze to the ground, she couldn't concentrate when she looked him in the face. Instead she adressed the ground. "So what have you been up to the last few years?" A cloud settled over his face, and he set his jaw grimly. In a forced, cheery reply, he said, "Oh nothing much, just-" But before he could finish, he cut himself off, glancing at his watch. "Oh, look at the time. Y'know, I've got a class in a couple of minutes-" "So, you're really the new teacher?" He nodded, "Yes, well. I'm afraid many people won't be too happy to see me back." Hermione shook her head, "Oh no! Only stupid people like Malfoy and-" He regarded her gravely, "He still around then?" Hermione sighed. "Yes." "Ah well, there will always be people like him in the world, nothing you can do but try your best to put up with him..." He looked up at Hermione once more, and clasped her hand in his, "Well, it was lovely to see you again Miss Granger, and I look forward to seeing you in class." And with a final wave, he turned and strode off down the hall. Hermione let out a long sigh and fell back against the wall, her heart pounding fitfully in her chest. Goodness, he's changed, Hermione thought distantly, he has definitely changed. She couldn't forget those eyes of his, those lovely, dark eyes. "Mmmm," Hermione breathed, shutting her eyes, there they were, looking at her, rich dark and smooth, you could loose yourself in eyes like those. She sighed again, only to be brought sharply back to reality, as a bunch of giggling first years, chattered past. She moaned, pulling herself tiredly off the wall, and straightening her books, she hurried off to class. 


End file.
